


Importing Christmas

by an_odd_ducky



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, hobbit rpf 2013 christmas exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_odd_ducky/pseuds/an_odd_ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt in the Hobbit RPF 2013 Holiday Gift Exchange by the wonderful Red Shiloh: Dean and Aidan share their first Christmas together. It’s cute and fluffy, they’re big dumbs. They talk about their favourite Christmases, their least favourite Christmases, what kinds of traditions they tended to have (they would be pretty different considering Christmas for Dean is in summer and for Aidan it’s winter). Just a really festive, happy atmospheric scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Importing Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedShiloh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShiloh/gifts).



> I'm still a little shocked that this was the prompt I ended up filling, because I literally changed my mind at about 8:30pm the night before it was due when I just wasn't happy with what I had written for my original choice. But I'm pleased with how it turned out in the end, although I apologize for fudging some of the details in the prompt (I think you were going for more of an established relationship, and I really didn't get into Dean's traditions - I'm sorry!). I hope you like it anyway, and have as much fun reading it as I had in writing it!

“Something wrong?” Dean asked, looking up from his Halo game as Aidan re-entered the trailer, scowling at his phone.

“That was my mum,” Aidan answered, tossing his mobile onto the couch maybe just a bit too forcefully to be casual before dropping down next to Dean on the floor. “My parents’ 30th wedding anniversary is coming up the weekend after Christmas. She just called to tell me that Gran surprised them today with a two-week vacation in the Greek islands to celebrate.”

“That was nice of her,” Dean said, starting the game again as Aidan picked up his controller. The sound of gunfire filled the little room, but Dean still heard Aidan’s quiet, neutral hum of acknowledgement.

“You don’t think so?” he asked, chancing a glance in Aidan’s direction as his game character reached a safe zone. 

“No, no, Christ knows they deserve it after putting up with each other for thirty years,” Aidan said, lobbing a grenade at the enemy. “It’s just….”

“What?” Dean asked. “Watch out, there’s a sniper on that roof.”

“Yeah, I got it. It just means that they won’t be at home for Christmas, and that’s where I was planning to spend the holiday.”

“Who’re you spending it with, then? Your gran?” Dean asked.

“Nah, she always visits friends in Paris in December. Guess I’ll just stay here. Doesn’t make much sense to fly home if I’ll be in an empty house. All I ever really did was lay on the couch and watch telly all day, anyway. There’s just a lot of stuff I’ll miss, ya know?” Dean could hear the disappointment in Aidan’s voice.

“Like what?” He asked, genuinely interested in what Christmas with Aidan’s family was like. If that had anything to do with his curiosity to know if he himself would fit into that little picture, he stubbornly refused to admit it.

“Oh, you know. The usual stuff. Mum always makes me wear a horrendous jumper and then insists we take a family picture in front of the tree. That always takes at least half an hour because Dad can’t figure out how to set the timer on the camera, even though he’s been using the same one for the past four years.”

Dean’s face split into a grin at that mental image. 

“Mum spends most of the morning in the kitchen. You know when dinner is nearly ready because the cursing gets louder. They both try to sneak me eggnog - spiked, of course - when the other isn’t watching. They’re convinced the other wouldn’t approve. I can’t hardly turn around without one of them pressing a glass into my hand.”

“You haven’t told them the truth yet?”

“Why should I? I get twice the eggnog this way,” Aidan threw him his most mischievous smile and Dean couldn't help but smile back at him, pointedly ignoring the way his heart skips a beat. 

“So, what, you just watch telly most of the day and stuff your face?” Dean asked, laughing when Aidan shoves him playfully for the jibe. But Aidan didn’t deny it.

“Pretty much, yeah. At least until my parents go to bed,” he said.

“And what happens then?” They’d nearly finished their mission in the game now. Dean half considered fucking up the last fight just so he could keep Aidan talking.

“You’re going to think it’s silly, but...I turn out all the lights in the house except the tree, and stoke the fire back up, and I’ll open the curtains so I can sit in front of the fireplace and watch the snow fall outside. It’s so peaceful. It’s my favorite part of the day, really.” He says the last part softly, like he’s embarrassed by it. He ducks his head and sets down the controller as they finish their game.

A plan was slowly forming in Dean’s mind. “Aidan, come with me for Christmas.”

“What?” Aidan said, looking up suddenly.

“Yeah, come with me. You can meet my family, see what it’s like to have a real Kiwi family Christmas,” Dean grinned, letting his head rest back on the couch seat as he smiled at Aidan.

“I couldn’t,” Aidan said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t crash your holiday like that. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. Really, it’s fine, I’ll just stay at my apartment and be lazy.”

“You can’t spend Christmas alone!” Dean insisted, resisting the urge to reach out and take Aidan’s hand. “Come on, my family won’t mind. They practically know you already; I talk about you all the time.” He didn’t realize he’d said it until it was too late to take it back, and he immediately felt a blush creeping up his face. Dean fought down the need to hide his face and hoped to God Aidan won’t notice.

“You talk to your family about me?” And yes, Aidan’s eyes were definitely taking in the bright red of his cheeks now. The Irishman smiled an almost wolfish smile and unconsciously shifted a little closer. Dean swallowed, suddenly a lot more nervous than he had been a moment before.

Luckily, he still had the precense of mind to side-step the question and avoid admitting that he might have kept his mother on the phone for forty-five minutes the week before, simply recounting his favorite parts of Aidan’s accent.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never told your parents about me? I’m hurt, Aidan.”

Aidan smiled at him again, and Dean had to pretend to fiddle with the xbox controller to keep himself from leaning in closer and kissing him.

“Well, I did call and tell them about the time you nearly got thrown out of that tree and squeaked like a mouse.” 

“You did not!” Dean exclaimed, shoving Aidan playfully in retaliation and then ignoring the way his hands tingled from the contact. Aidan laughed and let himself take the abuse.

“I did; I totally did! You’ll just have to ask my mum; she’ll tell you.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether to be mortified that Aidan had told his parents about that particular incident, or elated that Aidan thought he’d one day have reason to talk to his mother.

“So you’ll come with me for Christmas?” Dean asked when they had grinned stupidly at each other for just a bit longer than was strictly necessary. He held his breath as he waiting for Aidan’s answer, but it didn’t take long.

“Well, you’re hardly going to let me stay here and brood alone, are you?”

\---

It was early Christmas morning when Aidan heard the knock on his door. He threw one more glance at himself as he passed the mirror, trying to pat down his wild hair before giving it up as a lost cause almost immediately. When he grabbed his mobile phone and wallet and pulled the door open, the sight that met him immediately stopped his greeting in his throat.

“Merry Christmas!” Dean chirped, looking for all the world like he’d just finished visiting the knitting circle at a nursing home. He had on a royal blue, cabled jumper that was entirely too large but made his eyes look more vivid than Aidan had ever seen them. He swallowed weakly and tried to find his voice.

“Merry Christmas,” he answered in a half-whisper. “Why are you wearing a jumper? It’s twenty-five degrees out….”

Dean just gave him a pleased smile and pushed another sweater into Aidan’s hands. “Here’s yours! I, uh, didn’t have any awful Christmas patterns, but it’s pretty scratchy, so I hope it’s horrendous enough for you. Now come on, we’re running late and it’s an hour and a half drive.” With that, he started back for his car. Aidan looked from him to the sweater in his hands and back to Dean again.

When Dean got back to his car he found Aidan still rooted to the spot in his front door.

“Come on, put it on and let’s go!”

“You don’t actually expect me to wear this thing?” Aidan asked, slowly starting forward and closing his door behind him. 

“Of course I do. It’s Christmas; you have to wear a jumper!” Dean answered, sliding into his seat. Aidan reluctantly pulled the sweater over his head before climbing into the passenger’s side. His was a forest green and just as scratchy as Dean had said. 

“Perfect!” Dean declared after looking him up and down, and then they were off.

The drive to Dean’s family home was indeed an hour and half long, but when they finally pulled into the driveway and Dean declared that they had arrived, Aidan found himself wishing it had been a longer drive, if only so they could continue to talk. Talking with Dean came so naturally that even the lulls in conversation felt companionable, although those were few and far between. 

Dean’s mother answered the door when they knocked, and Dean was given only the briefest of hugs before she nearly shoved him away to get at Aidan, standing up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around Aidan’s neck. 

“Aidan! Dean has told us so much about you. I feel like I already know you!” she pulled back and grinned at him, then turned and not-so-subtly winked at Dean, who turned scarlet and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen, abandoning Aidan. When Aidan had gotten over the initial shock and managed a friendly reply, he realized that she, too, was wearing a sparkly red jumper. He didn’t have a chance to comment on it, or on the fact that they had clearly turned the air conditioning down as low as they could to compensate, before she was tugging him into the living room and introducing him to Dean’s dad, Lance, and brother, Brett, who were both bent over the fireplace, unsuccessfully trying to grow their little starter flame into a proper fire.

Dean’s father turned out to be just as nice as his mother, looking up and immediately exclaiming in an emphatic voice, “Aidan, my boy! So glad you could come! Have I got a treat for you!” He plodded over to the wet bar and came back a moment later with a tall glass of eggnog, pushing it into Aidan’s hand with an over-exaggerated wink. “Don’t tell Christine,” he whispered before slapping Aidan on the back and laughing. “Dean’s told us all about you, of course. You’re practically family already, isn’t that right, Brett?”

Brett wiped his hands on his ugly yellow sweater as he backed away from the growing fire, turning to smile kindly at Aidan. His tone was teasing as he answered. “Dean always did like the tall, dark, an----”

“Here you are, Aidan, have an eggnog!” Dean exclaimed loudly as he came out of nowhere, shoving a full glass into Aidan’s free hand and shooing his brother away.

“But I’ve already got one….” Aidan answered, staring at the two glasses in his hands. 

“Yes, well, drink up while it’s still nice and cold!” was all that Dean said before steering them toward the couch and grabbing the remote.

Christmas dinner was a surprisingly quiet affair, much quieter than Aidan had been expecting after their initial introductions, but as they ate, they talked happily about their lives, catching up with each other and never going long without asking Aidan a question to keep him involved in the conversation. Aidan found conversation with Dean’s family to be easier than even dinners with his own family, and he was soon wrapped up in the warmth and good-natured joking that enveloped them - so much so that he could only laugh whenever Christine had turned to Dean and exclaimed, “I see what you meant! He does drop the ‘h’ when he says ‘thing!’” 

Dean had blushed red again where he sat beside Aidan, and Aidan couldn’t resist the urge to reach under the table and squeeze Dean’s hand where it lay in his lap. He let go a moment later as Christine put another glass of eggnog in front of him on the table, petting his wild curls once before taking her seat again. Aidan glanced back at Brett across the table just in time to catch the knowing wink he tossed at his brother. 

The rest of the day passed without too much of a fuss. Aidan offered to help clean up after dinner, but Dean only handed him another glass of eggnog and pushed him down onto the couch in a way that sent an embarrassing thrill racing through Aidan. After all the dishes had been washed and put away, Dean emerged into the living room with one of his cameras and told Aidan it was time for the family picture.

“Do you want me to take it? Your camera’s fancy but if you set it up I’ll hit the button.” Aidan offered, looking up at him from his comfy spot on the couch.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aidan, you’re going to be in the photo with us. I won’t be happy until I get a picture of you wearing that awful sweater. I’ll set the timer, it’s fine,” Dean insisted, then shushed all of Aidan’s arguments as he pulled him to his feet. Neither one seemed particularly keen to let go of the other’s hands, and they stood there for a moment, too close to be merely friendly as they looked at each other. 

The moment was broken abruptly when Lance entered the room with more eggnog. “Here you are, my boy! Got another glass of the good stuff for you!”

Aidan hadn’t laughed so hard in years as he did that day, surrounded by someone else’s family in the heart of New Zealand on Christmas. It never even occurred to him how odd it was to be celebrating the holiday in the middle of summer, knowing that only a few meters away at the beach, people were spending their day off surfing the waves and building sandcastles. Before he even realized it, Christine came through and dropped a kiss on the top of his head from behind the couch, squeezing his shoulders as she bid him goodnight. She turned off the light on her way out of the room, leaving Aidan alone on the couch.

Dean came padding pack into the room not long after, his socked feet almost silent against the hardwood floors. He leaned over the back of the couch and handed Aidan a freshly-printed picture without a word. Aidan smiled as he looked over it. They'd pushed him into the very center of the photo, and his eyes were crinkled with the size of his smile, but he wasn't looking at the camera. At the last minute, he had looked down at Dean next to him, who had secretly slipped their hands together between them.

"It's a good photo," Aidan said, smiling softly at it. 

"It's for you," Dean answered, and his breath tickled the curls over Aidan's ear. "So, what do you say? One more eggnog before bed?" 

Aidan's laugh filled the room and he pulled a face. "Oh, God, please no! No more!" 

Dean laughed with him as he came around the couch and took a seat next to Aidan, curling his legs up beside him. "Suit yourself."

Dean picked up the television remote and switched it off, leaving the fire, the Christmas tree, and the moonlight reflecting on the ocean outside the only sources of light in the quiet room. Aidan smiled and shifted so that their bodies were pressed together and didn’t protest when Dean timidly laid his head down on Aidan’s shoulder. They sat there in silence for a long time, content simply to spend time in each other’s company and not break the peace with unnecessary conversation. At some point, their fingers tangled together and Aidan’s thumb set up a slow pace circling the back of Dean’s hand.

They stayed that way until midnight, when the clock on the mantle chimed out twelve bells and Dean finally shifted shyly away from Aidan. 

“Thank you,” Aidan whispered. “For today. For everything.”

“There’s no snow,” Dean mumbled apologetically, his heartbeat suddenly picking up speed with Aidan’s keen eyes watching him. 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t miss it.” Silence fell for a moment before Dean finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t spend Christmas with the people you love,” he whispered, staring at his knees. He only looked up again when Aidan’s warm hand slid over his cheek, tilting his face upward to look at him.

“You know what? I think I did,” Aidan said on barely a breath, and leaning down, kissed him once for every single time he had wanted to and couldn’t.

And if anyone noticed a couple of scratchy wool sweaters thrown on the ground in front of the fireplace the next morning, no one felt particularly compelled to comment on it.


End file.
